13: LYSANDRA’S BACKSTORY

The great lineage of Calithea's queens was an unbroken chain of responsibility, rooted in centuries of sacrifice and power. Queen Lysandra had been the latest and perhaps the most revered link in this chain, after her mother queen Selene.

From the moment of her birth, Lysandra had been destined for greatness. The firstborn daughter of Queen Selene, she was raised in the shadow of her mother's wisdom and the towering expectations of the Calithean crown. Her childhood was anything but ordinary, it was a whirlwind of lessons in diplomacy, warfare, and the sacred rites of the Forest of Veln.

The forest, with its ancient trees that whispered secrets only the queens could hear, was the beating heart of Calithea. The connection between the rulers and the forest was said to be mystical, a bond that transcended mere tradition. The first queen of Calithea had forged this bond when she stood before the forest's sacred pool and was blessed with the gift of vitality, a power that allowed her to heal her people and nurture the land. It was both a blessing and a curse, for the gift drew its strength from the queen's own life force.

Lysandra's first encounter with the Forest of Veln had been on her seventh birthday. Her mother, Queen Selene, had taken her to the sacred pool, a shimmering expanse of water that seemed to glow with its own light.

"Listen, Lysandra," her mother had whispered, her silver-streaked hair catching the sunlight. "The forest will guide you, but it will also demand much of you. You must learn to balance its gifts with the needs of your own heart."

As young Lysandra stood before the pool, she felt an inexplicable pull, a sensation that coursed through her veins, like roots digging deep into the earth. It was then that she heard it: the faint, melodic whispers of the forest. She didn't understand their meaning at the time, but she knew, instinctively, that the forest had accepted her.

The years that followed were both a blessing and a trial. Lysandra grew into a formidable ruler-in-training, her intelligence and poise setting her apart from her peers. Yet, the burden of her future weighed heavily on her. She watched as her mother, the embodiment of resilience, slowly succumbed to the toll of her gift. By the time Lysandra turned eighteen, Queen Selene's once-vibrant figure had withered, her hair entirely silver, her steps slow and deliberate.

When Queen Selene passed away in her chambers, the court mourned, but it was Lysandra who bore the brunt of the grief. She ascended to the throne on the same day she buried her mother, the crown placed upon her head as tears streamed down her face. The people of Calithea looked to her with hope, yet all she felt was the crushing weight of expectation.

Her early years as queen were marked by trials. A famine swept through the kingdom, leaving villages desolate and her people desperate. The Forest of Veln called to her during this time, its whispers urging her to act. Lysandra, who was driven by both duty and compassion, channeled the vitality of the forest to heal her people, restoring their crops and curing the sick.

But the act came at a cost. Lysandra's body, though still young, began to weaken. She often retreated to the forest to replenish her strength, yet each visit seemed to draw more from her than it gave. She learned, as her mother had warned, that the gift of vitality was a double-edged sword.

Because of her sacrifices, Lysandra became beloved by her people. They spoke of her as a queen who truly embodied the spirit of Calithea, a ruler who placed her people above herself. Yet, in the quiet moments, away from the court and the forest, she felt the loneliness of her position. Her father, a scholar who had long since returned to his homeland, wrote her letters filled with wisdom and encouragement, but his absence left a void she couldn't fill.

Lysandra's connection to the Forest of Veln deepened as the years passed. She began to understand its whispers, to interpret the subtle signs it offered. The forest was a source of power.

But the balance began to shift. As the years wore on, Lysandra's health declined. The vitality she had once channeled so easily now seemed to elude her. The forest, which had always felt like a sanctuary, grew quieter, its whispers faint and fragmented.

On one very cold night, Lysandra felt a deep unease. The forest called to her with an urgency she hadn't felt since the famine. She ventured into its depths, her steps unsteady, her breath shallow. When she reached the sacred pool, she knelt before it, her reflection staring back at her with a haunting clarity.

"Why have you forsaken me?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

The pool rippled, and for the first time, she felt no response. The silence was deafening.

It was then that she realized her time was running out. The forest, in its infinite wisdom, had chosen her successor. She didn't know who it would be, but she felt the shift deep within her. The vitality that had sustained her was fading, her connection to the forest severed.

That night, as she lay in her chambers, Lysandra felt a strange sensation, a pull, as though her very soul was being unraveled. Darkness enveloped her, and for a brief moment, she felt weightless, untethered.

When she awoke, everything was different.

Her body no longer felt like her own. Her thoughts, once clear and composed, were now a whirlwind of emotions. She realized, with a dawning horror, that she was no longer in control.

Zara the bold and defiant, had taken her place.

The rebirth was imperfect, a merging of two souls in one body. Lysandra's presence lingered, it was faint but unyielding, trapped in a compartment of her own mind. Zara, unaware of the full extent of the forest's magic and of the rebirth carried on, her personality clashing with the regal poise of the body she now inhabited.

The people of Calithea didn't notice the change.

To them, their queen remained as she always had been, calm, elegant, and collected. But those closest to Lysandra began to sense the difference. Zara's boldness, her defiance, her refusal to conform to tradition, it all stood in stark contrast to the Lysandra they had known.

The Forest of Veln, however, remained silent. Its whispers which were once a source of guidance and comfort, were now a distant echo.

For Lysandra, trapped within the confines of her own body, the silence was unbearable. Yet she held on, her presence served as a flicker of light in the storm of Zara's spirit. She didn't know if she would ever reclaim her place, but she vowed to protect her kingdom, even if it meant doing so from the shadows.

And so, the legacy of Queen Lysandra lived on, her story intertwined with Zara's, both their fates bound by the ancient magic of the Forest of Veln and by the concept of their rebirth.